Kadin Ece
by coeurgryffondor
Summary: And Sadık, never one to be cruel to such a beautiful woman, rewards her. / Ottoman!Turkey/Ottoman!Hungary for ducere. Companion piece to "Replacement".


Author's note: This is the companion piece to « Replacement », this story coming before it. It's especially dedicated to ducere, my perpetual partner in crime, who I know has a sweet spot for Turkey and was a great sounding board for my ideas for Turkey/Hungary. Sorry this took so long dearie! D:

Turkey (_Sadık_) calls Hungary (_Erzsébet_) Ece, which is Turkish for queen. The names they keep calling each other are different terms of endearments, listed below. Beyond that there's a thousand references to Turkish things or to the Ottoman Empire in a time period suitable for when this would be taking place; if you're curious about something I suggest looking it up because it's all incredibly fascinating, you can't go wrong.

Translations: güzelim (my beautiful one), aşkım (my love), bir tanem (my only one), tatlım (my sweet one), canım (my life/soul), hayatım (my life), canımın içi (core of my life/soul)

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**Kadin Ece**

_The female hierarchy [in Ottoman harems] followed the pattern of odalisques (virgins), concubines ("one night stands"), ikbals (favorites), and kadins (favorites "wives")._

His Ece looks infuriatingly beautiful where she's been lounging on his bed since called to him from her room in the harem; it's driving Sadık absolutely mad.

"Güzelim," he murmurs, moving to lay atop the Hungarian. The silks of her dress rustle against his skin, in pinks and reds and oranges, loose fitting on her incredible body. Ece allows him to remove the metal belt around her waist; it had been a gift Sadık had had special made for her, worthy of the hips it sat upon.

Lazy, thin fingers run through his exposed hair as Ece shifts to allow Turkish lips to fall upon her neck. He feels her move, her legs parting, her shelver jingling from where Sadık had had little bells put at the narrow closings about her perfect ankles. His body moves to fill the space between her thighs, her hips rolling up just once to rub against his manhood.

"Aşkım," Sadık whispers against Ece's lips, her green eyes piercing him with her gaze. They are bright and clear and focused solely on him until they drop to his lips, coming back up seductively; Ece always knew just how to rile him up.

"Bir tanem," she murmurs, subtle Hungarian accent on the Turkish words, before pulling him to her mouth to demand his touch. And Sadık, never one to be cruel to such a beautiful woman, rewards her burning desire with touches all over her body, slowly stripping her of her clothes. At some point he finds himself sitting, Ece upon his lap, and his clothes are shed too as the Hungarian tongue moves against his, her hips rocking, her moans low.

"Tatlım," the Turkish man gasps as his Ece shimmies out of her top, those incredibly beautiful breasts of hers bared before him. His hands can't resist, fingers caressing them, rolling them, lifting them and kneading them. The Hungarian head falls back, her hair tickling his legs, and there's no denying that those little gasps and cries as Sadık plays with her nipples till they're just begging to be licked, the way she was begging for him, are his and his alone.

Her hands are tight in his hair, her fingers pulling him closer and closer until he's nearly suffocating against the soft skin. Ece bucks wildly above him; he loves it when she looses control, when her need for him burns her up until she can't hold back any longer. With a chuckle he pulls her hands from him, laying back and allowing Ece to tumble down with him.

"Canım," is all Sadık has time to murmur before Ece is kissing down his chest, across his stomach, her hands pushing down his pants. Her green eyes are alight at the sight of him, his cock hard and long and ready as she licks up the underside of his shaft. Fingers tease his balls, the head and his slit, her hands and mouth trading off because Ece was an excellent pupil and knew just what Sadık wanted from her.

She's unbelievable to watch, the dedication, the look of pure bliss she wears on her face, until the Turkish man tires of this position, tugging at her hair. Ece moves like one of his dancers until she's laying before him on the bed, wide-spread legs begging him to come to her.

"Hayatım," and he can't get between her legs fast enough, can't push in fast enough. Her hands claw at his back, Ece's eyes and head rolling, her mouth open in silent moans. Sadık pulls out to slowly push back in, enjoying the friction, the tightness, the warmth, the everything that Ece, his Ece, his favorite, is.

Hips roll and mouthes wage battle, the only sound bells being jostled on the floor as Sadık keeps up his pace even as the Hungarian begins panting louder and louder, her orgasm eminent.

One hand grabs her chin roughly to hold her eyes to his when she comes, Ece screaming his name because Sadık loved it when she did that, her entire being consumed by him. He's rough in his final thrusts until he comes too, filling his favorite the way she was meant to be filled: by him and him alone.

They collapse on the bed, Sadık still wrapped up in Ece's arms, for what seems like eternity. But it's an eternity well spent, the Turkish man enjoying the smell of fresh flowers in his favorite's hair, how smooth her skin is, the feeling of her warmth in the already hot room. Yet when he rolls over to get more comfortable Ece rises, her duty done, and begins redressing.

"Canımın içi," Sadık murmurs and Ece casts her head over her should to look at him. "Come back to bed."

That rebellious spirit flashes in her eye, the Hungarian resuming dressing until she's at the door where a eunuch waits for her.

"You can't have a white eunuch," Sadık murmurs, eyes narrowed at how close the two were standing together, "you know that." The eunuch was most likely Hungarian, his Ece being a sentimentalist like that. Women could be so trivial sometimes but Sadık liked to let his favorite have her way every once and a while, so she could feel like she was still in control of something.

Ece gives her master a beautiful, seductive smile before whispering, "Oh really? Too bad. Goodbye, forever, Sadık."

After the pair part his chambers the Turkish man lays on the bed, replaying her words over and over. Ece was a rebellious woman but sometimes she could be so stupid; she wasn't going anywhere. Hungary was squarely under Ottoman control, after all.


End file.
